


every second of the night i live another life

by lamentforboromir



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 18:16:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4797437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamentforboromir/pseuds/lamentforboromir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy may or may not have had a really intense wet dream about Jason. Jason may or may not have totally heard him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	every second of the night i live another life

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a tumblr NSFW drabble meme, where flatbear requested "Jason/Roy, one has a wet dream and calls the other's name out during, AND BEING REALLY FREAKED OUT BY IT." And because I apparently forgot what the hell a drabble was, this is what I thought I would deliver.
> 
> I don't know either, y'all.
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are mine (not to mention the sheer stupidity of this story, that's mine, too).
> 
> Title from "These Dreams" by Heart because YEAH I WENT THERE

Roy wakes up gasping for breath, fingers clutching at his pillow as his orgasm hits him full-on like a semi-truck.

It takes him a moment to come to, for his vision to come back into focus, sprawled out boneless on his bed and still trying to catch his breath. His throat feels hoarse, but he doesn’t know why the fuck it is. He pushes his sweaty hair out of his face and flops onto his back. Jesus. He can’t remember the last time he came that hard, not by himself anyway. Certainly not from a wet fucking dream. He looks down at his stomach, sees the mess of his own jizz smeared there and the wet spot just beside him, and scrunches his nose. He’ll have to wash these sheets soon.

With a stretch, Roy glances over at the clock on the floor, right next to his mattress. 4:47. He’s probably the only one awake. Sighing to himself, he settles against his pillow and wipes lazily at his stomach with the corner of a sheet. He’ll shower in the morning, he’s not too concerned about it. But he wonders what it was that sent him over the edge. He can’t remember the dream exactly, can only feel around the edges of it, recalling warm skin, strong hands, and. Tongue? He considers it, thinks he remembers it well enough, figures yeah, tongue. He was probably dreaming about getting his dick sucked. Makes sense, and he decides not to dwell on it too much further. He’s sure it was good while it lasted.

He’s just about to flip over and try to go back to sleep when there’s a violent knock on his door.

“Roy, open up,” Jason says on the other side of his door, and there’s something about it that makes Roy seize up. He doesn’t know why, but Jason’s voice is calling to mind what he thinks are memories of his dream. He’s getting flashes of someone touching his thighs, biting his hipbone, and it’s just enough to send a small shiver down his spine.

Weird. He usually doesn’t have this kind of recovery time.

Shaking it off, Roy yells back, “What do you want?”

“What do you mean, what do I want?” Jason says, voice as long-suffering as ever. “You’re the one who fucking called _me_.”

Called _him?_ Why would Roy have called Jason? Roy was asleep until two seconds ago, there’s no way he would have been able to—

Unless—

Oh god, no, not unless—

And here, Jason's still knocking at the door, yelling “Roy, what the fuck, answer me,” but Roy can hardly hear him because he’s being overtaken by the memory of his dream, of someone sucking his dick and Roy running his hands through short black hair and _pulling_ , of intense blue eyes looking up at him, and oh holy god, those are _Jason’s_ eyes, Jason is holding firmly him by the hips, his tongue flat against the underside of Roy’s dick as he’s staring directly at Roy, never breaking eye contact even as he licks at the head of his dick, and Roy’s calling out just before he comes in that warm, perfect mouth—

And oh, fuck.

Oh, _fuck_.

He had screamed _Jason’s_ _name_.

Oh Jesus cocksucking Christ, Roy had just had a wet dream about his best friend _and had screamed out his name so loudly while he orgasmed that it woke Jason up_.

And there Jason is, still knocking at Roy’s door insistently, clearly unaware that Roy’s about three seconds from a total mental breakdown, asking “Roy? Roy, what the fuck is going on? Roy, answer me already, goddamnit.”

Roy figures he has three choices here. He could tell Jason to fuck off while he figures out why the hell his subconscious was jacking it to the thought of him, but that would only make Jason angry, and Roy has made it a priority to _never_ make Jason angry. He values his friendship as well as his limbs. On the other hand, he could tell Jason that it was no big deal, that it was a mistake or that he had a nightmare or whatever, but then Jason wouldn’t believe him, would keep needling at him until Roy snapped at him or told him the truth. And that wouldn’t work, because again, he is not going to make him angry, and there’s no way in _hell_ he is going telling Jason about the dream he’d just had. And then there’s option three, which Roy is apparently taking, where he just covers his face with his hands while his conscience screams _WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK_ on repeat and while he pointedly shuts out all thoughts of Jason.

And that’s when he hears his door being slammed open.

“Roy, what the hell?” Jason asks, and he’s _pissed_. He’s wearing a pair of ratty old boxers, holding up a gun, and his face is scrunched up in an awful scowl. Roy would think it was funny if there wasn’t something about those clear blue eyes that’s sending a shock right through him, and okay, what the actual _fuck_.

Somehow Roy manages the strength to cover himself with the sheet and ask, “Dude, what the fuck, who told you that you could come in?”

Jason apparently takes this as a challenge, screws up his face in this appalled, incredulous look. “You’re lucky I didn’t break the damn door down, Roy. What the fuck is going on?”

“Nothing, man!” Roy says, giving a wave of his hand, not meeting Jason’s gaze. He means to go for easy and lighthearted, but he’s too riled up, too on edge from thoughts of Jason and his stupid traitor of a sex drive to sound anything but stressed. “It’s nothing, I’m fine, let it go.”

“You’re lying,” Jason spits, and hasn’t he always been so good at calling Roy’s bullshit? “You never lie to me. What is it?”

Roy wants to tell him to get out of his damn room already, but there’s that edge to his voice, and Roy thinks it’s something close to panic. Oh god, this is Jason’s _worried_ voice, he’s _concerned_ about Roy, and Roy feels both so weirdly honored and weirdly guilty that his voice strains when he asks, “You worrying about me, Jaybird?”

“Of course I’m worrying about you!” Jason says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You fucking _scream_ , and now you’re acting all weird and avoiding me, so yeah, I’m fucking worried! I need to make sure you’re okay, dumbass!”

Roy just has to heave a sigh at that, hide his face in his hands because what the hell is he supposed to do with that? Jason, for all his weird and aggressive ways, is really the only friend he has left, and he’s always looked out for Roy, even from the get-go. Every run-in Roy has had with Ollie, Jason’s been there to help him decompress, to make sure he feels like he isn’t drowning by the end of the night, making sure he’s okay by the end of it all. Every fight they’ve been in, every danger they’ve faced, Jason has always made sure that Roy was okay. If Roy shuts down on him, what’s Jason going to do but flip his shit? Because here he is practically foaming at the mouth, trying to make sure Roy hasn’t been attacked or something, and Roy’s just sitting here after having a wet fucking dream about him. God. It makes Roy feel filthy and cheap in a way that he hasn’t felt since—since fuck, he doesn’t want to think of when.

“Roy,” Jason says, breaking Roy free from his thoughts, and his voice is a little softer now. “Roy, what’s going on?”

Roy groans. “It was just a dream, Jason,” he says from behind his hands, wishing that somehow the world would swallow him up and end this. “I’m fine.”

“You had a nightmare?” Jason asks, and oh, if only it were just that easy.

“Yeah, sure, a nightmare,” Roy sighs, too tired to sound convincing, “something like that. Look, I’m _fine_ , pinky promise, can I go back to sleep now?” He looks up to give Jason as best a reassuring smile as he can muster, but Jason’s not looking at him. Jason’s looking somewhere just next to him.

Jason’s eyes are trained directly on the wet spot right next to him and Roy cannot goddamn breathe.

Fuck his _life_ , man.

Roy’s trying to think of how to explain it, trying to come up with an excuse of spilling water or crying or _something_ , when Jason says, so quiet, “Did. Did you…?” He trails off and looks at Roy, mouth slightly agape and eyes widening. Those eyes are so fucking blue and intense, and Roy’s pinned to the spot.

“Y-yeah, alright,” Roy stammers, because what’s the point of lying now. He wishes he could tear himself away from Jason’s gaze, wishes he could stop his heart from hammering in his damn chest, but he just _can’t_. “Yeah.”

“About…me?” Jason’s breathing has gotten heavier, and there’s this focus in his eyes that’s not anger, it’s not confusion, it’s something that’s making Jason restrain himself, tense up and—and oh god, is Jason _turned on_ by this?

Jason’s eyes sweep down Roy’s body and holy fuck, Jason is totally turned on by this. The thought of it is enough to make the blood rush straight back to Roy’s dick.

Holy _fuck_.

“Roy,” Jason says, and it sounds like he’s forcing it to come out evenly if the way his hands clench into fists beside him is any indication, “if you want me to leave, forget that this happened, I can do that. But,” and there’s this intensity in Jason’s eyes that’s making Roy _weak_ , “if you don’t want me to leave…”

Christ on a cracker. This is Jason Todd propositioning Roy Harper. This is Jason putting the ball in Roy’s court, and before he can even think about it, Roy just moans, “Get over here already,” and _god_ , is it the right thing to say.

Jason fucking _surges_ forward at him, grabs Roy’s hair in one hand and pulls, just enough so that Roy’s gasping before Jason kisses his open mouth. His other hand goes to caress Roy’s throat, run his thumb along his Adam’s apple and Roy thinks he could die from being kissed like this. It’s a mess of tongue and nips to his bottom lip but Roy can’t bring himself to give a fuck, this is better than he even imagined and oh god, Jason is sucking on his tongue, this is the best night of his damn life.

Even if he doesn’t get any more sleep tonight

Yeah, Roy thinks as Jason bites down on his collarbone, hand traveling down to thumb at the head of Roy’s dick, he isn’t getting any more sleep tonight. And that is just fine by him.


End file.
